


Eivor and Sigurd: An intimate overview ABCs (NSFW)

by Anonymouscosmos



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:14:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29110641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymouscosmos/pseuds/Anonymouscosmos
Summary: This is a standalone thing because it doesn't really belong with the vibe of my fic about these two. A little somethin' beyond the somethin'. So, the trash goes here. It's really not that trashy. Mild spoilers mentioned.This is all my headcanon. :)
Relationships: Eivor & Sigurd Styrbjornson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Eivor and Sigurd: An intimate overview ABCs (NSFW)

**A = Aftercare** :

Sigurd is a cuddler. He is a charismatic and enthusiastic man by nature, but there is an express and uncharacteristic tenderness to him where Eivor is concerned. When she is reduced to a sweaty and trembling mess, he holds her to him and strokes her back until she can form words again. Sigurd is the only man she has ever tolerated such intimacy with, and in truth, she is absolutely rotten for it.

**B = Body part** :

He loves her stomach. He likes the flatness of it, the slope of muscle and the way her waist curves into it. He likes the indentation of her navel, and the softer lines of her abdominals. Sometimes, when she is on her back and he is kneeling before her, he likes to flatten his palm against her taut stomach and feel the motion of him moving within her. It drives him absolutely crazy.

**C = Cum** :

Whether Valka’s words regarding Sigurd having no sons were true, or there is something different about their Isu physiology… Pregnancy does not seem to be an issue or a concern with these two. She does not have a cycle like most women do, though she is well-versed in preventative herbs and has utilized them. In the beginning, he was more careful about withdrawing and spilling his release elsewhere. Eivor has been expressly adamant about not wishing to be a mother, and he would never want to push her into such a thing. As time wore on and the fear faded, she trusted him enough to finish within her. Since then, it has become Sigurd’s favorite part of their joinings. There is something immensely satisfying and primal to thrusting hard and relentlessly as he fills her with his seed. He especially likes when she drags her nails down his back or bites his shoulder or pulls his hair as he throbs and aches and expands inside her. That, more than anything, will tip him over the edge. He couldn’t give a damn about having sons. It’s more about the sense of ownership that comes with it. 

**D = Dirty Secret** :

He will never tell her this, but he’s pleasured himself to the image of her braiding her hair probably a dozen times. He feels almost silly for the frantic need the sight filled him with.

**E = Experience** :

Sigurd is experienced enough, from his time before marriage. Sexuality isn’t something taken too seriously as a vikingr. It’s a means to an end. A release of tension, or anger, or battle-heat. Casual sex is a staple where death is so easily met. There were many nights he found succor in the arms of another drengr or alewife, though they stopped when he lost all interest for any women save her. He knows Eivor has taken various lovers prior to their relationship, and he tries not to dwell on it. He’s a little jealous and a little possessive when it comes to her, though he keeps it to himself. He respects her autonomy too deeply to bring up her past lovers.

**F = Favourite Position** :

Doggy. This is partly due to it being a lot easier for him, with his right arm gone. It is also partly due to the fact he can wind his fingers in her hair, pull her head back, and make her arch even more for him. It helps that it’s her favorite too, and the harder he pulls her hair the tighter she gets around him.

**G = Goofy** :

Sometimes they are actually rather silly. They have not lost their penchant for teasing each other and making fun, and more often than not a sparring match of words leads to a different sort of sparring match. He loves this about her. She is the only person who has never been afraid to fling barbs his way, and her tongue is as sharp as her axe. Sometimes, in the midst of the deed, she will egg him on with snide comments. It only makes him harder.

**H = Hair** :

Sigurd is absolutely obsessed with Eivor’s hair. Any excuse he gets, he’s touching it or running his fingers through it. When they lie together, his hand is almost always inevitably wound in it, either pulling or tugging or just glorying in the sensation of it. She would complain about all the times she has been made to re-braid it, if not for the enjoyment she gets from his attention to it. Apart from quick tumbles where there is a time constraint, it’s almost a requirement in the bedroom. One she happily obliges. 

**I = Intimacy** :

Sigurd is very affectionate with Eivor. He can’t help it. There is a pervasive desire to touch her that is always with him. Whether it’s a hand on her shoulder, or the backs of their fingers brushing each other, or his hand slipping up her thigh during a feast, he’s always touching her. Eivor reciprocates in kind. After so many years of wanting and not having, she is unabashed in her desire for him. She particularly likes pinching his arse, and doesn’t care who sees her do it. Sometimes the two of them sit at the edge of the dock, feet hanging off the edge, and slip an arm around each other’s waists. They can sit like that for hours, and the rest of the clan hide their smiles and go about the day as though it isn’t the sweetest thing they’ve ever seen.

**J = Jack Off** :

Sigurd has indulged himself on more than one occasion, but not when Eivor is an option. When she is gone, he will take matters into his own hands. It usually involves thinking about her naked, covered in battle-dew, and sporting unbound hair. He’s very specific about these things. Eivor, on the other hand, doesn’t bother with such a thing. She’d rather wait and take out her frustration on the vikingr who shares her bed.

**K = Kink** :

If Sigurd had his way, he’d take her in the middle of a battlefield, there amongst the dead and dying. The combination of blood on the air, her fury with an axe, and the sight of her cleaving Saxons as though they were brittle grass drives him absolutely wild. It’s a little voyeuristic, too. He likes the idea of making her scream his name while others are near enough to hear it. He likes the idea of them knowing she is  _ his.  _

Eivor likes when shit breaks. She likes being slammed up against the wall, and listening to dishes shatter on the floorboards at their feet. She likes being hammered so hard the bed groans beneath the abuse. She loves when he tears her clothing, teeth bared in the fury of his passion, and throws them aside. She likes hard, bruising kisses and for him to leave fingerprints on her body. She runs her fingers over them sometimes and smiles at the memory of where they came from. If she has a kink, it’s a strength kink - and the more of it Sigurd displays, the more heated she gets. 

**L = Location** :

Anywhere it’s an option. Sigurd doesn’t care if it’s in a bed, on a floor, on top of the alliance table (oops), behind the stable, in the spring that runs behind Ravensthorpe - he will take what he can get. Though his favorite place so far was on the feast table, at an hour not quite dark enough to ensure privacy. He’s still surprised Eivor allowed it, and when his enthusiastic efforts resulted in a pitcher of mead spilling on its side and soaking her, he thought it would be over then and there. She only laughed and tightened her legs about him, urging him on harder. Half the cups and plates were jostled onto the floor, and there is no way the rest of the settlement didn’t hear. The memory pleases him immensely, and he thinks about it every time they eat a meal there.

**M = Motivation** :

If there is anything that motivates him, it’s catching another’s roaming eye. It’s no secret there are more than a few people with serious interest in the Jarlskona. There’s something electrifying about seeing another pine for his little drengr and know they will never have her. Perhaps there is some meanness in his spirit still, carried forward from his youth - for he enjoys breaking their hearts by taking Eivor’s hand and dragging her off for ravaging. Eivor is oblivious to this reasoning, and thinks it’s simply Sigurd being Sigurd.

**N = NO** :

Sigurd learned pretty quickly that  _ submission  _ is not a word in Eivor’s vocabulary. If he gets controlling or pushy, she pushes back - far harder. She is headstrong and willful, and demands equal footing with her lover. It isn’t easy for a god reborn and a son of a king to bite down on his desire to possess, own, and destroy - but he isn’t too chagrined by her expectations. He loves her and would rather honor her wishes than have his way.

**O = Oral** :

Sigurd loves both giving and receiving, though Eivor would rather give than receive. She will indulge his interests, should he be so inclined to give, but she would rather do the giving. He is hard-pressed to complain about this arrangement. For one, she has an absolutely wicked tongue. For two, it’s an excuse to bury his hand in her hair. He’s very helpful, holding her braids or unbound tresses out of the way for her. He never lasts long, when it comes to oral. She’s far too good at it, and the more he stiffens and moans, the more relentless she is. 

**P = Pace** :

Hard and fast is both Sigurd and Eivor’s preference. As cuddly and affectionate as they are before and after, sex is sex, and by the end of the day they’ve been mentally circling each other like half-starved wolves and are ready to feast. On some occasions, it’s different. Slower, more intimate. This is usually after a night of sharing mead and trading stories of their younger years and rehashing fond memories. There’s a lot of love between them, and when they dwell on the past and how far they’ve come, it deeply affects both of them. Eivor gets misty-eyed, Sigurd has to clear his throat a few times, and it usually ends in a heated twining of bodies that is far more sensual and loving than the usual fare. In these instances, they like facing each other and gazing into each other’s eyes. They like slow and sweet kissing, tender caresses, and murmuring gentle words to each other. It’s a reminder of the first time they lay together, a culmination of years of longing, and they will stay up until the early hours of morning reveling in it.

**Q = Quickie** :

These happen quite often. Being a Jarlskona and juggling alliances and her duty to the clan can be very trying. Eivor isn’t a particularly patient person, but she can’t foist the task of leading on Sigurd every time she feels like it. As such, they seize moments where they can find them. Sometimes it’s as simple as a fast few minutes with Eivor bent over the alliance table (Sorry Randvi), with Sigurd utilizing his hand to help Eivor along. Other times, it’s wherever they can grab the time. Behind the stable, or amongst the trees surrounding Ravensthorpe. It was during one of these romps a roaming pack of wolves starl ted them, and that was the day Sigurd discovered his little drengr is no less deadly with her pants about her ankles.

**R = Risk** :

While Sigurd is definitely excited by a little bit of exhibition, Eivor is not. She doesn’t care if people know  _ what  _ she has been doing, she’d just rather they not be part of the actual experience. At times, she indulges him. Just enough to keep the torch he carries for her burning brightly. The feast table, for example. He was so stirred by the experience he could hardly keep his hand off her for the following week. Her knees still turn a little wobbly at the memory of it.

**S = Stamina** :

Sigurd was afraid the loss of his arm would make things… difficult. Not just physically, but mentally. He felt like less of a man, and it was a thought that greatly diminished him for a long time. With his vitality and spirit recovered, he is an absolute savage. If it’s sex, he can go for as long as Eivor needs or wants him to. If it’s oral, it takes her no time at all to entirely deconstruct him. They are matched in their strength, and Eivor is utterly tireless. On nights when she takes the lead, it’s all he can do to hang on as she rocks and writhes until sweat trickles down between her breasts and her breathing grows ragged. He likes that. He likes that… a lot.

**T = Toy** :

None of that for these two. They’ve got hands and tongues and know how to use them.

**U = Unfair** :

Eivor is rather wicked when it comes to teasing Sigurd. She makes it a point to brush against him innocuously, or lick her lips enticingly when only he can see her do it. More often, she is quite direct - leaning in to whisper in his ear during a feast, telling him exactly what she would like him to do to her and where. Once, just before they went out to greet a visiting emissary from Wessex, she shoved Sigurd against the wall, slid a hand into his breeches, and bit his lip as she gave him a few firm strokes. He was hard as frozen stone the entire uncomfortable meeting, and no sooner had the party left than he was fucking her with unrestrained abandon against the wall of their bedroom. She laughed until her mirth turned to moans.

**V = Volume** :

Sigurd has never been the vocal type, but with Eivor he is considerably more so than his usual occasional grunts. With her, he groans and snarls and growls against her sweaty skin. She isn’t always a screamer, but there have been more than a few occasions where she has made him cover her mouth with his hand, lest someone hear who shouldn’t. He likes this almost as much as he likes the idea of someone  _ hearing.  _ To know he’s having this much of an effect on her is something he finds very validating.

**W = Wild Card** :

Eivor is a fairly free spirit when it comes to the matter of love, and there was one occasion - while visiting Glowecestre for a spring festival - that she surprised the hell out of Sigurd by bringing another woman to their bed. He wasn’t sure if it was the full moon or the old magic in the earth that inspired it, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As enjoyable as the night was, he found himself sleeping in a sweaty pile of bodies and almost regretting it. For him, there is only Eivor… and it felt as though something had entered their sacred space and disrupted it.

**X = X-Ray** :

Sigurd is a huge man, standing at 6’5” and with shoulders wide enough to rival an ox. He is also very… proportionate. He is both long and thick, and his size is part of the reason he sometimes has to muffle Eivor’s cries.

**Y = Yearning** :

Sigurd has never wanted anyone like he wants Eivor. He wants her as often as possible, and when they are together it is nearly daily. When she returns from a long trip, it may be twice or even three times in a day. They have years of longing to make up for, and each time seems to only stoke the flames of their desire further.

Eivor has always had a very healthy appetite, and is quite pleased with the frequency and interest from her beloved.

**Z = ZZZ** :

Eivor: Immediately. Sometimes followed by snoring. She sleeps like the dead, especially if she’s had mead beforehand. Sigurd often stays up after, watching her sleep and smiling in contentment until his eyes finally close. He values every second he has with her, and there is something about the way she looks when she is asleep that utterly destroys him.

**Extra!:**

Though they have no way to truly understand the nature of their joined dreams, it has become rather effortless over time. All Eivor needs do is reach out, and the field of flowers opens to her. It is a lifeline, in the times they are apart. As long as they dream, they are never truly alone. Often, dreams blend into reality - and they might wake from a dream of tumbling amidst crushed flower petals to find they are also joined in the waking world. It adds a layer of intimacy to everything they do. It is not always about sex, or being intimate. Sometimes they relive old memories together, in this world that is only for them.


End file.
